


His Loss

by wargandproud



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 20:25:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3087935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wargandproud/pseuds/wargandproud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post game conversation about Solas over Wicked Grace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Loss

It was Varric who finally said it, during one of their games of Wicked Grace. Blackwall and Sera were at the corner of the table conspiring, while Sera got steadily drunker and Josephine looked at Blackwall with increasing alarm as he started to sway. Vivienne had a whole side of the table to herself, she had taken a lot of convincing to play but had shown up for a game the last three weeks. Dorian was there, of course. If there was drinking and gossip then Dorian was there.

"This is getting ridiculous, if no-one's going to discuss the dragon in the room I will. Chuckles told no one where he was going?"

Lavellan glanced around the table, but most of her companions were not deigning to meet her eye. Dorian looked like he'd just smelled something unpleasant. He'd never forgiven Solas for dissapearing on her.

Varric sighed. "He didn't even tell you Princess?"

"Not a thing Varric. He has no loyalty from me anymore, if I knew anything I'd have told you." She often wondered what she would do if he suddenly returned. She alternated between a warm embrace and throttling him. Today she was leaning towards the latter.

Another sigh. "Nothing? I mean you were sleeping with the-"

"Were you?!" Josephine suddenly piped up, her mouth open in a perfect o. "Why did no-one tell me this?"

"You didn't know that? Everyone knows that." Varric waved his hamd dismissively.

"Do they?!" Lavellan asked, horrified, while everyone else murmured their agreement, except Sera for whom murmuring would not suffice.

"Okay now we're all talking about it," she slurred and pointed at Lavellan, who braced herself for maximum insults, "You remember the Winter Palace thing?" She swayed slightly to the left and was propped up by Blackwall. "Did he leave the hat on?"

"Goodness that hat," Dorian gasped theatrically, pressing his knuckles to his forehead.

Lavellan was confused. "Well he took it off at some point I assume?" She looked around in bewilderment, looking for help, but no-one was paying attention, clearly everyone was reliving the trauma of the hat. Dorian was massaging his temples.

"No, I mean did he leave it on when you...y'know," she slowly waved one hand infront of her face, but went too far and knocked over her drink, " _frolicked in the fade_ after?"

Lavellan's mouth dropped open in abject horror as the table fell into hysterics, apart from Vivienne who raised one perfect eyebrow. That was as close to hysterics as she got.

"No!" She tried to maintain her haughty act but couldn't withhold her laughter. Sera hooted while Blackwall's face fell.

"That'll be 3 gold Blackwall!" She barked at the warden, who grudgingly handed over the coins.

"It looked elfy. Blackwall bet you got off on elfy things."

She could have cooked an egg on her forhead it was so hot. "I do not get off on _elfy things_."

Vivienne shook her head and raised a finger. "My balcony is next to your room my dear, you definately got off on at least one _elfy thing_."

The group exploded with laughter, Varric was wiping tears from his eyes.

"I'm so sorry Princess, this didn't go the way I thought it would." 

If the floor could have opened up and swallowed her Lavellan would have been grateful. She buried her face in her hands while Dorian clapped her shoulder. 

"The man had stamina, I'll give him that," he had to shout to be heard over the peals of laughter at her expense, "I once waited outside the library storeroom for twenty minutes when you two-"

"DORIAN." She slammed her hand on the table while Sera choked on her drink. 

"And that door really wasn't as thick as you'd thin-". She pounced on him, pressing one slender hand over his mouth and messing up his hair with the other. He laughed uproariously while making weak attempts to fight her off. He could have thrown her across the room if he wanted, he'd done so once when they were sparring and spent ten minutes after fussing over whether he'd hurt her.

Once she had been well and truly forced back into her chair, Lavellan accepted the tone of the evening and asked Josephine,

"No but really, who picked that damn hat?" The morning after the ball she had thrown it off her balcony while Solas was still sleeping and pretended it had been lost. 

Josephine giggled and pointed a finger at Vivienne, who at least had the decency to look ashamed.

Vivienne shrugged. "I was told that style is all the rage in Antiva" she ventured. "Besides, can you imagine the shame if we'd sent him to The Winter Palace with that shiny of a head?"

Lavellan snorted and covered her mouth with her hands. It was good to laugh about it, not be treated like she was an invalid, to be greeted with sad smiles and understanding nods. Solas had taken many things from her, her Vallaslin, her faith in her people and her gods, but damn him if he was going to take away being able to laugh with her friends.

Dorian rubbed her shoulder, smiling widely. "His loss?" he said to her quietly, an eyebrow raised. 

"His loss" she nodded. And she meant it.


End file.
